


Veda

by MimsyStigg



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-16 07:59:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18687385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MimsyStigg/pseuds/MimsyStigg
Summary: Two years before Harry Potter came to Hogwarts, Professor Snape's attention was focused on someone else...A dishevelled looking Slytherin with a dark secret.





	1. Chapter One

Professor Snape lifted his eyes to glare at the small girl edging her way to the back of his classroom. She had long, pale hair that lay limp around her shoulders and her eyes were hollow and withdrawn, framed by dark circles that revealed the sad extent of her sleep deprivation.

“You’re late.” He snapped, his voice dangerously low. Somewhere in the back of his mind her registered the girl’s appearance and made a note to keep an eye out for the child but for now he had a reputation to keep up.

The girl looked up and caught his eye for a second and he was stung by the hollow look in her eyes. She seemed vacant. It was a look he recognised from his own childhood but he managed to shake off the sense of déjà vu creeping up his spine and settled his face into its usual dark glare.

“You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making.” He began. It was a well rehearsed speech and one that he had delivered to first years many times. Its sole purpose to solidify his role in their minds as the formidable Potions Master with the barely veiled threat- displease me at your own peril.

Although his face remained set in the same patronising sneer he had worn every day since he began teaching at Hogwarts he couldn’t help but risk a quick side glance at the girl with the straggly blonde hair. Her robes were at least two sizes too big and frayed at the cuffs.

Hand-me-downs, he thought curiously. Though he couldn’t remember seeing another child looking so deflated so he couldn’t think who her sibling could be. Perhaps they were her parent’s robes from school. They did look very old.

“I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory and even put a stopper in death- If you aren’t as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach.”

By now the class sat riveted and Snape saw it was a good time to dig for information.

“What is your name?” He asked, staring intently at the girl at the back of the room.

The child swallowed hard, clearly uncomfortable by the attention she was now receiving from the rest of the class. “Jean.” She said quietly. “Jean Brown.”

The Professor’s eyebrow twitched at this, although he wasn’t sure why. Something about her name made him uncomfortable. Perhaps it was the way she said it. Emotionless, detached. But something made him wonder if there wasn't something different about her.

Something... hidden.

He shook off the thought almost as immediately as it had struck him. "And you. He said turning to face the freckled twins at the front of the class. Two Weasleys in one room. I shudder to think how I will survive."

Fred and George, although clearly nervous, turned to each other and grinned. "Do you think he's talking about us George?"

"I guess so Fred. What d'you think he means then, eh?"

"Not a clue. Hey, Professor you ought to mind your manners. But we Weasleys are known for our forgiving manner so-"

"Silence!" Snape bellowed and the boys quickly obeyed. "In my classroom you will speak only when spoken to.” He fixed each member of the class with a resentful stare before continuing. "10 points from Gryffindor for your insolence. And let that serve as a reminder to all of you. This is my classroom. You would be wise to remember who is in charge here." 

The rest of the lesson was spent introducing the class to the basic brewing equipment. Some of the Slytherins sighed at being told what a cauldron was for, having grown up in the magical world all their lives while the muggleborns sat riveted. Jean seemed interested but not surprised at much of the equipment. A halfblood perhaps, he wondered. Not that it mattered. He had come to the conclusion long ago that magical descent had no influence on a person’s ability to succeed in the magical world. While pureblood students often felt superior they were, usually at least, no more stupid than the rest of their classmates.

While he was discussing common potion ingredients he took a moment to study the girl’s uniform closer. Aside from the well worn cloak he noticed her shirt and jumper had faded. His eyes settled on the tie poking out from beneath her jumper: a vibrant green. It seemed to be the only new thing she was wearing and it probably was, seeing as the students wouldn’t know which house they would be in until they arrived at Hogwarts the school provided them with their first tie. Any other house-related clothing could be purchased by their parents and flown in by owl. He hadn't attended the sorting this year and wondered idly how her parents would react to the news that their daughter was in Slytherin. Although, judging by the state of her, they probably couldn’t care less.

The girl sensed his gaze and folded her arms tightly across her chest, causing the Potions Master to look away quickly. His face remained indifferent but inside he cursed himself. She must have thought he was eyeing her up, staring at her undeveloped breasts. 

The thought made him cringe and he wondered if the girl had good reason to be afraid. He decided to keep it in mind for future reference. He had already sensed that she might need help but there was no evidence yet that the child was in danger.

And besides, she would be safe at Hogwarts.


	2. Chapter Two

“Miss Brown.” Dumbledore said gently.

His eyes twinkled as the girl entered his office and he smiled sadly, thinking how much like her father she looked.

Aside from her pale blonde hair she was the spitting image of the boy Dumbledore had once known and her eyes, so much like Tom’s. He saw the young boy he had met so many years ago reflected in them. Intelligent, angry, different... but still human. 

Not like the eyes of the monster that little boy had become.

“Hello Sir.” Her mouth smiled but her eyes remained sunken and dispirited. He wondered if sending the girl to Malicombe was a good idea after all. The man would not kill her. Not with Dumbledore watching over his shoulder but perhaps he would punish her for the deaths her father had caused. Not that she had any idea she was related to him. To the man who had taken so many innocent lives. But she was here now and he would do his best to look after her. 

He was still haunted by memories of the little boy in the orphanage. He couldn’t help him now but perhaps he could try to save his daughter from the same fate.

“How are you finding it here?” He asked, indicating that she should take a seat.

“Allright.” She said and for the first time he saw her eyes light up a little. “I didn’t know there were so many different parts to magic, Sir.”

Albus smiled. “You are enjoying your lessons?”

Jean nodded. 

“Good.” The old man took off his glasses and wiped them against the soft fabric of his cloak. “And... how do you feel about the sorting hat’s decision?”

Jean’s face crumpled in a look of deep concentration and then she spoke. “My Dad, he doesn’t like Slytherin. He told me I should ask to be in Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw. I thought we’d have a test and then I could ask please can I be in this house but it wasn’t like that at all...” She paused and looked up at Dumbledore who smiled and nodded for her to continue. “Well, they put the hat on my head and it started saying all these things, Sir. I was going to ask it about Ravenclaw but-”

The old man was alarmed but remained calm. “What did the sorting hat say?” He asked.

“It said...” The girl’s voice changed as she spoke the next words and Dumbledore thought she looked eerily like she had been possessed by the spirit of the hat which was, of course, impossible. It was just an enchanted piece of fabric designed to look into a young student’s mind and sort them into one of four houses. “It said... There is darkness in you Veda but darkness is not your destiny. And then it sorted me into Slytherin.”

Dumbledore cursed the hat for revealing the child’s birth name but was comforted by the fact it seemed to mean nothing to her.

“What do you think it meant Sir?” Jean asked. She seemed afraid and added. “If I’m not destined for darkness then why did it put me in Slytherin?”

“Not all Slytherins are bad Jean.” He said softly.

The girl nodded but did not seem consoled. “My Dad’s going to be angry.” She said. “He really hates Slytherin.”

Albus smiled a little. “How is your father?”

“Do you know him?” She asked.

“Yes.” He said quietly. “Malicombe Brown was a fine student. Smart and loyal. I’m sure you will be much the same.” 

That was one of the reasons he had placed the child with the Ravenclaw. He was about thirty something when the girl was born and when the order had removed her from the hands of the Death Eater guarding her for Voldemort he had resolutely refused to take her on. Insisting they should kill the girl before she grew into another monster like her father. But Dumbledore had been insistant. There were many causes worth fighting for but none worth killing for. Especially not a child. She was an innocent Albus had reminded him and Malicombe agreed to raise her but his animosity for the girl was clear from the start. Dumbledore just hoped he had managed to disguise it well. It was important the child never discovered the truth about her ancestry.

“You may go.” He smiled. “And whatever your father says remember that being a Slytherin is not a bad thing.”

The girl nodded and her face settled back into its usual empty stare. The old man just felt happy he could break through her facade for a short while. “Have a nice day, Miss Brown.” 

“You too Sir.”

After she was gone he sat for a long time, running his long fingers through his beard and remembering a small boy.

"I can make bad things happen to people who annoy me. I can make them hurt... if I want to."

And now a little girl.

“darkness is not your destiny.”


	3. Chapter Three

The next time the Potions Professor saw Jean was at the Slytherin House meeting. It was supposed to happen at the same time as the other houses, just after the sorting ceremony but he had been busy, working on the final stages of a difficult potion, and besides it never paid to seem too interested in your students.

“Good evening Slytherin.” He began and a chorus of voices echoed back at him.

“Good evening Professor Snape.” 

Most of the first years caught on quickly and chimed in completing the obligatory phrase of greeting only a few seconds after the older students.

“And so begins another year at Hogwarts. I trust you all had a pleasant holiday?”

“Yes Sir.” Came the voices. 

Jean’s eyebrows knitted together. There was something about the interactions between these students and their Head of House that made her think of a pantomime act.

He turned to where the first years stood huddled together at the front of the Slytherin common room. “Welcome First Years to Slytherin House. Despite what you may have heard, we Slytherins are well mannered and civil... to our own house at least.” A few chuckles erupted from the older students. They sounded cold and it made Jean uncomfortable. “As such I will tolerate no fighting or bullying between my students. If you have an issue with a fellow Slytherin then sort it out between yourselves or come to me. You may be my house and I may dearly want to see us trample Gryffindor for the house cup again but I am still your teacher and will not hesitate to deduct house points from anyone who is asking for it. Is that understood?” He fixed the hive of pupils with a deadly stare.

“Yes Sir.”

“Good. That will be all.” He stood still as the students began to scatter themselves across the common room and file up to their dormitories. When Jean began to head for the girl’s staircase he stopped her.

“A word please, Miss Brown?”

“Yes Sir.”

She couldn’t help but feel nervous as she followed him through the common room and into his office. After her first lesson with him she had felt uncomfortable, although she knew she was probably overreacting, but he had been staring at her... there... and her heart rate quickened as she wondered if she could outrun him. A grown man, more than twice her size. 

It would be impossible. 

They stopped just outside the classroom and Professor Snape looked around quickly to check they were alone. Jean crossed her arms in front of her chest again and took an instinctive step back, away from the looming robed figure.

“I wanted to apologise for the other day.” He said. “If I made you uncomfortable. I was merely interested to see which house you had been put in.”

Jean shot him a quizzical glance and her cheeks blushed red. So he was looking at her tie... and he knew what she had thought when she saw him staring.

“It’s okay Sir. I’m sorry for thinking you were... looking.” Snape didn’t think it was possible but the girl’s cheeks managed to burn an even brighter shade of red.

“Indeed.” His eyebrow seemed to raise of its own accord as he studied the child carefully and wondered, yet again, if there was something more going on. He thought carefully about how to phrase his next question. “Forgive me but I wonder has anyone...” He struggled to find his words. "...looked before?”

He immediately regretted his choice of words. 

It made him sound like a pervert or a child molester. “I mean, I merely wondered from your reaction if someone had ever... made you uncomfortable like that...” His voice trailed off, unsure how to finish his sentence.

“I know what you mean Sir.” The girl said quietly and the red in her cheeks had dimmed to a pale shade of pink. “And if they had... I don’t think I would tell you.” She said, keeping her eyes fixed firmly on the floor.

Sighing, the Professor raised his hand to let her go. 

So she had answered his question, in a roundabout way, and it was not the answer he had hoped for. Still, she had not said enough for him to go to Dumbledore. The Old fool seemed to have a blind spot where abuse was concerned, although personally, Snape thought he made a conscious choice not to see it. 

He would have to look out for the girl now. He hoped she would find the strength to confide in someone. He hated to think, come Christmas, he would be sending her back to a home that had caused the hollow look in her eyes.


End file.
